Unbeknownst
by rememberingtoforget
Summary: Max and Ella lead two very different lives. Different, and yet they couldn't look more the same. By fate, they meet and decide to swap places. And while it's all fun and games at first, it's not easy to fix the real mess of their intertwining lives. AU.
1. Window to the Soul

**Unbeknownst**

Sept. 20, 2011

**Written by **_desperatelyobvious_ **(Tiff) and **_maximumrain3_ **(Sam)**.

**Sam**: Hey guys! So…yeah…here's our story :D We hope you enjoy and hope that you know that it only gets more exciting from here! This story is _kind of _like the 'The Parent Trap' but really, other than the whole switching places thing it's completely different! …There's Fang in it :F *_drool_*

**Tiff**: And before all else, imma already say that we (_pretty freakin' obviously_) don't own Maximum Ride. The plot's also very loosely based on the Filipino drama 'Minsan Lang Kita Iibigin' but all other ideas are ours. :P

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Window to the Soul<strong>

The light drizzle that pitter-pattered against the windows served as muted background music as Iggy ascended the creaky wooden stairs, a tiny smile on his face.

Normally the whole ambiance of the place always gave him the urge to be elsewhere, anywhere but this depressing house, but today it didn't bother him so much.

At the moment, he was nimbly carrying a wooden tray filled with breakfast in one hand, and with the other, quietly pushed open Max's door. He made his way to her bedside and was about to shake her shoulder when his fingers suddenly brushed against something else – something soft and slightly chapped as he swept his fingertips curiously over the surface…

_Lips._

He'd touched her face by accident, and even though they were best friends, he couldn't help but blush at this.

Of course, he would never touch Max like _that_ unless she wanted him to. No matter how much he loved her, he would never cross that line unless she crossed it first.

Upon contact, Max roused from her slumber even though his hand barely grazed her. Though Iggy couldn't see, he could just imagine her usual routine where she would stretch her arms above her head and yawn adorably, and then proceed to scratch her back as she'd greet him.

"Mornin' Iggy," she said croakily with half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile on her face.

"Good morning," he replied pleasantly. He scooted her over and plopped down on her left, brandishing the breakfast that he made for her every morning. Without hesitation she dug in, but unlike the other times, she raised her head to look into his sightless eyes, spoon mid-way for her third bite.

"Y'know Ig, I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered with clarity, as if this fact only dawned on her now. Then she went back to cutting her pancakes, unperturbed, and went on without noticing the adoring look on his face at her innocent statement. She just didn't know the effect she had on him.

"Yeah, me neither. I guess some people are just born brilliant," he replied back with humor, shrugging transcendentally. He received the expected slap on his shoulder without fail – as she always did whenever they were joking around – but he didn't anticipate her kissing him on the cheek, catching him off guard.

It barely lasted a second, soft lips brushing against his pale cheek, but he instantly felt like he was burning from head to toe, and whatever the feeling was, he didn't want it to go away.

He relished in her company for the rest of the morning, just talking and laughing like they always did. And throughout the day, the lingering heat from her kiss made him believe that things would get better between them somehow.

It was just too bad that he didn't realize how wrong he was.

And that he wasn't going to see her again for a long time.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

Max Ride couldn't find it in her to feel the least bit remorseful when she'd stepped out of the Higher Living Foundation for Children and into the gusty autumn afternoon, leaving behind Iggy to run errands.

She knew in her heart that it was wrong to actually want to _leave_ her best friend back in that miserable place, even if he could've very well accompanied her, but he was a key part of that reality and sometimes she just wanted time alone.

Sometimes she just wanted to pretend that she was getting groceries for her loving mother who was waiting in their home in the suburbs, looking as though she were a typical high school student, instead of the reality that she was actually just a pitiful parentless teenager who was instructed to pick up her orphanage's food orders in the next city over.

Through the years Max had grown hard with perseverance and determination. She learned how to always come up with a Plan B and never failed to think on her toes. She was self-sufficient and independent. She _had_ to be, because once she turned 18 in a few months she was out of the orphanage and would be living in the real world on her own. In fact, she'd thought ahead already, planning to rent out an apartment with the scarce amount of money she had earned from her part-time job waiting tables, and wait until Iggy turned 18 as well so they could move in together and share the wages. They had talked about this; their futures were all set.

Though…if Max had it her way, she would've been studying in an actual school to pursue her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Actually would've had more than one friend, and done various activities in her spare time other than getting customer orders.

Actually would've had a family.

People knew Max for her greatness, which was why her nickname from the other kids was Maximum. She was bossy at times but had all the qualities of a leader. She was friendly to those around her, but wouldn't take shit from anyone. She was selfless and she was fierce. She definitely lived up to the name Maximum.

Except on days like today.

Today, she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity and let pain consume her heart whenever she passed by an old married couple on the street or a happy family in the next corner.

Today, as she pulled her worn-out jacket tighter around herself to ward off the chill, she allowed herself to wonder if life was even worth living anymore.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

Ella Martinez slammed her bedroom door shut, probably making it known to her entire street that she was _pissed_. Immediately, she dropped her backpack on the floor with a loud thud and yanked her frilly skirt down to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, all the while, still fuming from the argument that had transpired with her parents a few minutes ago.

It was always 'image' this and 'reputation' that; she was _so_ sick of hearing the same lecture over and over again.

Ella's father – _Mayor_ Charles Martinez – was a local celebrity, and so she was specifically instructed to behave at all times. _God forbid_ she broke the perfect image her father had carefully constructed for years, and yet it was so easy for her parents to break their daughter's heart and just…leave her there.

All she wanted was her mom and dad back.

She just wanted things to go back to the way they were, when she'd watch suspense movies on the flat screen TV with her dad every Friday night, huddled on the couch and munching on microwave popcorn. Or when her mom would drag her to a shopping spree and insist on buying her clothes, but end up picking all the tacky stuff (however it was still appreciated).

Where did those days go? Why did his position as mayor have to ruin everything?

She was trying to be the child they wanted so badly, but sometimes her best just wasn't good enough. She couldn't help it if she sucked at Geometry and scored a D on her test. It wasn't her fault that she accidentally tripped over a business executive at a party.

She was just a kid.

And so she wanted attention like every other kid. She wanted her parents to look at her, to _actually_ look at her, and ask her genuinely how school was that day. To ask her how her friends were doing, or care about whether she was eating right. She wanted them to care as much as she did for them.

Tearing off the halter top that her parents disapproved of so much, and messing her long caramel-colored locks in the process, she slumped on her vanity chair in her undergarments and just looked at herself, wondering what was wrong with her.

She was pretty. Beautiful even, as all the boys would say. She had an hourglass figure with enough curves in all the right places, making up for her petite height of 5'6. Her hair cascaded in shiny waves of brown, and her face never seemed to have any blemishes.

People would talk about her perfect pink lips and her high cheekbones, but it was her eyes that all the girls envied and all the guys wanted to get lost in. They were plain brown – nothing exotic or exaggeratedly multicolored – but her chocolate irises just always seemed capable of drawing anyone in. They were hypnotizing and inviting; like you just wanted to be in her presence and see her look back at you in return.

So what was she missing? What more would it take for her to become the Ella Martinez her parents envisioned?

Before she knew it, she was staring at the tears flowing from her reflection, taking a few seconds to realize that she was actually crying from the stress and hurt she was feeling.

She'd promised herself before that she wouldn't cry. She shouldn't cry for her parents because they didn't deserve her tears. She'd gotten used to it already, and she's learned to control her emotions.

But today…they'd called her _trashy_, eyeing her like she really was a piece of garbage. And she just couldn't stand the disappointed look on their faces.

The mascara and eyeliner she wore ran down her face in dark thin streaks. Quickly, she smeared her face with make-up remover and rubbed furiously at her cheeks.

_Stop crying, Ella. They're not worth it. They're not worth your tears._

Without stopping to completely think things through, she headed for her walk-in closet and rummaged for a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse, putting both on hastily. Bag in hand, she strode out of her room with her head held high all the way to the front door.

In reality, she was only headed for the city to cool off, but in the back of her mind, Ella wished she were getting away from her life, as if by some miracle she could escape it all.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

_(Max)_

Here in the city, you're just like everyone else.

The colors of clothes meshed together into one mass of grey and people surged forward as crowds to their destinations, just like schools of fish in the ocean.

I was among them, just going with the flow with my head bent down. I knew I just looked like any other teenage girl, but at the same time I was slightly conscious.

Ever since a friend from the orphanage described to Iggy how I looked and he'd called me beautiful, I began to feel people's heavy stares and I became slightly self-conscious. Not in the aspect of physical appearances, but because it felt like their eyes _knew_.

I felt like everyone knew I was parentless upon first glance. Like they just _knew_ I was an orphan.

In fact, I could feel eyes on me right now, on the back of my navy blue New York Yankees cap-clad head with all my unruly hair tucked underneath. I didn't know why this particular gaze seemed to bother me the most, like his stare was burning a hole into the back of my skull, but it did, and I couldn't help but spin around on my heel to flip off the freak.

Except…well, he wasn't a freak.

Right across the street at the intersection, dark eyes stared right back at me. And I was _sure_ he was looking at me because when I'd continued walking, his eyes followed my every move.

In any other situation, I would've glared or turned the other way and ignored him, but now…I just couldn't help myself.

My eyes couldn't seem to look away because I'd _never_ seen a guy so good-looking in my entire life. Everything about him screamed tall, dark and handsome, and I just couldn't find the will in me to look away. I mean, Iggy was good-looking too, I knew, but he was my best friend and I'd never think differently of him.

But this guy…he took the _gold_. He was extremely tall and well built, wearing all black clothes that matched his messy dark hair and olive-toned skin. Even from afar I could see his perfect facial features and noted the position of his stance, arms crossed over his broad chest, making him look completely _badass_.

He was a freakin' _god._

It was a wonder why he was looking at me, so very mundane in comparison to his good looks.

Was it that obvious that I didn't have any parents? Or was it simply because Iggy was just being nice and I was really a horror to look at?

_Well great, Max. Another bruise to my already-wounded ego…_

Remember when I'd said people looked like everyone else in the city? That people blended together in one big blur? Well he was the perfect contradiction to that statement.

Maybe it was just me who thought his angular jawline and disheveled hair were gorgeous. Maybe it was all in my head, but I was allowed to feel like a girl every once in a while and this was one of those times. I continued to stare at him out of the corner of my eye as I distanced myself further. Distractedly trying to multitask, I was so preoccupied with my hormonal rush that I wasn't able to see the girl headed for the opposite direction. In the next second, we collided headlong into each other and both fell back on the pavement.

One of my hands shot out to break my fall, subsequently twisting my wrist at the impact, but I didn't let it faze me. Jumping back to my feet, I first adjusted my cap on my head and dusted my hands on my jeans, then bent down to offer the person some help.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I muttered with sincerity, my voice seemingly echoing as I waited for the girl to pick up her fallen handbag.

She was twisted on her side so that her long brown hair concealed her face, and I could tell from her tense posture that she'd hurt herself too.

I took her free hand and gently hauled her to her feet, feeling guilty that I was able to harshly push someone down just because I'd been ogling, possibly _drooling_, over some eye candy.

_Of course_ this is what happened when I allow myself to feel like my gender for once. _Never again…_

"Are you hurt? Did you break your ha-" I started softly then cut off, suddenly feeling chocked up in my throat. Because just as I was about to say 'hand', the other girl raised her head then, and I felt like I'd been hit by a sixteen-wheeler truck.

I eyed the stranger's waist length light brown hair first, then shifted my gaze to her beautiful pale complexion. The more I stared like an idiot, the more I began to notice other things – like her petite frame and the shape of her face.

Our eyes eventually met when neither of us ran away, chocolate brown irises looking on into the others like I'd see in the mirror everyday.

I was staring right back into _my_ own eyes.

And _shit_, it wasn't just the fact that we had the same eyes but, well…

She looked _exactly_ like me.

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><p><strong>So, how was it? Kind of slow, but remember, this is <strong>**_just _****the prologue. Cookies to anyone who can tell us ****_who _****Max was ogling/drooling over that subsequently caused her to crash into ****_who#2 _****:D**

**Tiff**: We expect to see all or most of our subscribers **review** and tell us what they think. Don't let us down, guys!

**Sam:** Well, Tiff's really nice about this lol, but I prefer to use the extortion method. Please review and if you're one of my "_Of Sun and Moon_" readers then I'll give you a _huge _spoiler! I'll also update tomorrow if we can reach **15 **reviews :D Chapter 11 is already finished . . .

Can we reach **15** reviews guys? That would just be _amazing_ and therefore, you will be amazing as well c:

Have a great day, guys! (:


	2. Through the Looking Glass

**Unbeknownst**

Oct. 11, 2011

**Written by** _desperatelyobvious_ **(Tiff) and** _maximumrain3_ **(Sam)**

**Tiff: **_Daaamn._ Thanks so much for all the reviews, subscriptions and favorites we've gotten; you guys are fantastic! We're also really sorry that this update took so long, _and_ that the rest of our updates will take long. Sam and I are both really busy with school and everything so I hope you all understand.

**Sam: **Yeah, dudes, you're all frickin' amazing! Seriously.

**Without further ado, here's chapter 2 :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Through the Looking Glass<strong>

_(Ella)_

I'm sure these things don't just happen in your life. I'm sure you don't just accidentally bump into someone on the street that happens to look like your exact _replica._

But then again, we're talking about _my_ life here. Not yours. And frankly put, my life's pretty screwed up.

Frozen in place, I stared right back into my lookalike's eyes.

…and I continued to stare.

…and I stared some more.

Luckily, I wasn't the only one tongue-tied as I noticed the other girl opening and closing her mouth wordlessly. She was just as stunned as I was.

I wanted to ask if she was alright. I knew she fell on her ass like I did, which must've hurt just as bad as the throbbing in my tailbone right now. But I don't think anybody in my position would be able to speak, or even form a coherent thought for that matter.

This coming from me – the girl who always had the last say, the one who always had a comeback or alibi at the ready.

My gaze could only travel vertically as I noted her clothes – a Taco Bell t-shirt, with a dirty bomber jacket and ripped jeans over scruffy sneakers – and even then I thought she was pretty. Not in the lesbian sense or anything like that, but because she could seriously _work it_. These were clothes I'd never be caught dead in, but on her it suited her nicely. It brought out her features and accentuated her figure.

I felt my mouth twitch for a split second, and I could honestly admit in my head that I felt jealous. Here was a girl who looked _exactly_ like me – eye color, height, body type and everything – wearing boyish clothes and she still looked beautiful. I know I could never pull them off; on me, they'd look sloppy and ridiculous.

I started to feel my voice come back to me as if the clog in my throat was washed away, and I was about to _finally _ask if she was okay when suddenly, the first signs of downpour showed, which consequently progressed into heavy rain.

As in, I didn't even suspect it would rain today (though I should've known since it was drizzling early this morning) with the sun shining just a few minutes ago; the cursed weather here was unpredictable.

Immediately, I threw my hands over my head and laced them together to form a roof. I had no umbrella at hand because I'd left my house without thought, so quickly thinking of a solution I ducked into the nearest shop – a coffee shop – and headed straight for the girl's bathroom to dry off.

With my hair damp and clothes spotted with drizzle, I threw out the paper towels I'd wiped on my arms and retouched my make-up quickly.

The coffee shop I entered wasn't so bad. It wasn't Starbucks, with my usual coffee orders and cute baristas, but it felt warm and homey and I was contented with waiting out the rain in here. I glanced around, taking in the rich earthy tones of the place with its dark wood shelves lined on the walls. It was even crowded with people that I couldn't seem to find an empty table for myself.

Eventually, I saw a booth at the back corner with only one occupant. I would've preferred to sit alone, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The rain seemed relentless as I looked out the glass windows and I couldn't be picky.

I wove my way through the tables and chairs, clutching my bag tightly at my side. When I was just a few steps away from the booth however, I stopped in my tracks in shock.

Because it was _her_ again. My doppelganger/twin/whatever the heck you want to call it.

She didn't see me coming since she was staring out the window, elbow propped on the table with her chin on her palm. Her jacket and cap lay by her side on the bench she was seated at, and without both, I noticed all the more how similar her shoulders and arms were to mine, how her caramel-colored hair was a shade lighter than mine, and how edgy and cool her short shoulder-length haircut looked on her.

I wasn't as taken aback with this situation as the first time. Somehow, it wasn't as shocking as the first encounter and I was able to shake it off quickly, mustering enough courage to march right up to her and stop before the edge of the table.

"Excuse me?" I asked politely.

She turned her arm, tilting her head to look, and when she noticed after a millisecond who it was, I saw her visibly jump in her seat, eyes wide. While I was internally giggling at this, she composed herself as her body relaxed; the only indication that she'd acknowledged me was her raised eyebrow.

"Do you mind if I sit here? All the other seats are full," I said meekly. I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. She seemed like a kind person since she'd asked if I'd injured my hand earlier, but I felt intrusive; she looked to be deep in thought when I interrupted her.

A tiny sigh of relief escaped my lips when she smiled back, albeit tiny, and murmured, "Not at all," Tilting her head to indicate the bench across her.

I slid in slowly, putting down my bag beside me and looking out the glass windows of the coffee shop as well. I tried following her line of sight, curious as to what she might be staring at, but the busy city streets were playing on fast forward and the glass was too foggy with precipitate.

"_Of course life can't get any better than this…_" my doppelganger suddenly whispered to herself, her tone clearly sarcastic followed by a harsh chuckle. I jerked backwards in my seat, afraid that she'd noticed I was butting my nose into her business, but at the same time, I couldn't help the jolt of anger that rose in my chest at her words.

I had no reason to be mad, most definitely not at the girl across from me, but all my emotions were so pent up and I was just ready to explode. Now that I was finally able to sit down and think, the weight of all my problems just crashed down on me and I felt _so_ stressed out.

I only had two people to turn to, and neither of them could be here for me now. My boyfriend, Dylan, can't seem to pick up his darn phone, and my best friend, Nudge, was currently at a family reunion. All my other friends just wouldn't understand how I feel if I'd told them about my parents. They think I'm the perfect girl with the perfect life.

I felt like my problems were a hundred times bigger than the girl's in front of me, and she had no right to complain. I'm sure she lived a normal life, with parents who loved her and a handful of best friends who proved to be loyal.

So of course, this was where my mouth decided to pull a Nudge, just blurting out my thoughts without any filtering.

"Yeah, well, at least your parents aren't always judging you and expecting you to be perfect all the time," I said sourly, looking at anything but her.

Through my peripheral vision, I could see her head turn in my direction, a hard look on her face.

"_Excuse me?_"

"You should consider yourself lucky you don't get reprimanded every minute of every day. It just hurts too much when it comes from your parents," I said under my breath.

I don't know what made me respond to her. I knew I was probably crossing personal boundaries here, lecturing her on something I didn't even know about, but I was trying to make her understand that there were worse things in life than her problems. What was bothering her? Was she fired from a job? Did she lose something?

"Try having no parents at all," she said, and at that, I raised my head to look into her eyes.

The same brown eyes I'd see in the mirror everyday.

For a second, guilt washed through me and I cussed like a sailor inside my head. I knew I had a bad habit of judging people before I knew them. I didn't stop to consider that maybe a relative of hers died, or maybe she broke up with her boyfriend. Maybe her problems _were_ bigger than mine. Maybe in her mind, my problems were insignificant in comparison to hers. So many maybe's that I overlooked.

But then it was gone in a flash, and I could only feel a strange sense of understanding.

Just from her looks, I could tell she was strong. She wasn't dressed in all black and slitting her wrists (judging from her smooth pale arms that were in my line of sight), nor was she cooped up in her house and separating herself from society.

She continued on with her life. I could see in her eyes that she didn't want my pity, and likewise, I didn't want her pity either.

And in that split second that I'd looked up into her familiar chocolate brown eyes, I knew we understood one another.

I couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corner of my lips as I extended my hand to her, hoping for a clean slate at my introduction.

"I'm Ella. Ella Martinez," I said, and for once in my life the relief in my chest told me I wasn't so alone after all.

"Max Ride," she said simply with a smile, shaking my hand firmly before dropping it back on the table.

Okay, to give you a little more background info, I'm actually a very open person. I don't waste time with awkward conversation, or just nod and smile like an idiot at first encounters. I ask about them and talk about anything I could think of.

Except for today.

Just this one time, I wanted to talk about myself and have someone actually listen to me. Just this once.

And whatever went through me and Max, whatever understanding we'd established in the few minutes that we'd met, I felt like I could talk to this girl.

I didn't know why, but she made me want to trust her and tell her anything. Share my secrets and expose all the thoughts I've kept inside my head. And it was not just because we coincidentally looked like one another (if that kind of mentality made sense), but because I knew we were both hurting inside.

We were complete strangers, and yet I knew she wouldn't judge me or set my feelings aside as petty or overdramatic. She would _understand._

In true Nudge fashion (_again_), I crossed my arms on the table and leaned forward, ready to talk Max's ears off. My position was something akin to how I'd look as I'm about to spread some juicy gossip like I did at school; I could only hope that Max was willing to listen.

"Okay, so can I just get something off my chest? Because it's eating me away on the insides and I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust," I blurted out in one breath, the words sounding normal coming from my lips as if I was just telling all of these to a sister or a best friend. I could just imagine my pleading expression, desperate to be heard and on the verge of going into storytelling mode.

An amused expression crossed Max's face, but I could still see the concerned look deep within. She sat back on her seat and nodded, mumbling a, "Sure," before she crossed her arms over her chest.

And _boy_ did I gush my autobiography to her.

There was no stopping the torrent of emotions and stories I let out, complete with rapid hand gestures and raising my voice at the appropriate moments. It was all the more exciting because she knew nothing about me and I would be able to explain everything with detail. I guess the saying does hold true: _the truth set me free, baby!_

I also had to hand it to Max for her patience and understanding; it seems I couldn't have found a better person to run into.

I could clearly see this wasn't her thing; she wasn't completely comfortable with listening to a stranger's life story, but she was trying her hardest to relate and put herself in my shoes. She widened her eyes and exclaimed, asked questions for the things she didn't understand, and gave her input every now and then. She was really listening, and I think she knew that I needed that the most: to be heard.

"…so I had to get out, y'know? Because dear _God,_ I would've punched someone. Probably an unsuspecting maid since I was just that _pissed_. I was initially supposed to watch a movie, but then I ran into you and then…poof. Here we are," I finished with a huff, slumping in my seat. Max laughed and leaned back as well, probably thinking I looked so comical with my actions and facial expressions.

"So…" I drawled on again to fill the lull, "What about you? How are things on your end?" I asked, the feeling of slight embarrassment weighing down on me that I'd been going on and on about just myself and never stopped to ask about her.

"I dunno. Nothing really…" Max shrugged, distractedly looking out the glass window again to check on the weather.

"Aww! Come on! I could see something bothering you, and I know I barely know you, but maybe I could help." I urged her on, propping my chin on my hands and batting my eyelashes exaggeratedly. She snorted at my antics.

After much more of that, even trying the Bambi eyes on her (though it was a complete fail, I mean, for Pete's sake we had the _same eyes_) she eventually caved (though I mostly think it's because I was annoying the heck out of her). Her explanation was much shorter than mine, spoken more formally than mine, but I understood her all the same and likewise gave her my advice and opinions.

"It's okay, Max. Maybe you only feel that way now, but things will get better," I tried reassuring her afterwards, but I knew it ran deeper than that. No amount of comfort would change her mind.

"How can things get better when things don't change at all? I'm just stuck in that orphanage, rotting like a _prisoner_ and just waiting to be kicked out. There's no other way, no _alternative-_" she suddenly cut off from her rant when a waitress – kind eyes, curly brown hair, about mid-forties – came over to our table and brought out a small memo pad from her pocket.

"Goodness me, I'm sorry dearies! The place is so packed today, and these legs don't function like they used to. So, is there's anything you'd like to order?" she asked kindly, head bent down as she searched for her pen in her breast pocket. However, when she looked up, I could clearly see her shock as she did a double take at our appearances.

For a second, I almost forgot that I've been conversing with a girl who looks exactly like me. Which was weird because I'd been looking at her the entire time and I felt as if I was talking to myself in the mirror.

"_Well I'll be…_ you don't see this everyday!" she smiled, looking back and forth at us. "Such lovely faces… so who's the older one?"

Max answered back politely that she was, and only then did I realize that the waitress thought we were twins. Huh.

"So would you girls like anything? Cinnamon toast? Coffee? Gotta keep warm; it's pretty chilly today," the waitress suggested. Max (still using her polite voice) told her no thanks while I continued to stare mutely at the waitress. Finally, when she'd left with a curt nod, I turned my attention back to Max again and leaned forward.

"Why didn't you tell her we weren't twins?" I whispered, confused with where she was going with this.

In response to my question, she gave me a pointed look. "Do you seriously think she'd believe us if we told her, 'Oh no Miss, we're just two strangers who look alike who just _happened_ to sit in the same booth'?" she said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

I felt like an idiot.

"Right…" I mumbled, drawing back and fiddling with the handle of my bag. "Speaking of which, you _have_ noticed that we _do_ look alike, right?"

At my words, she suddenly got that look again. It was usually the look I gave to Nudge when she'd state something stupid or obvious. I already knew what she'd say before she opened her mouth.

"_Really?_ Well shit, Ella! _Why didn't you tell me this earlier?_" she shot back with even more sarcasm. I could only roll my eyes.

More seconds of silence passed. Mostly I was thinking of what Max had said before the waitress came, replaying her words inside my head. When I looked back on the desperation and sadness in her voice that she'd tried so hard to hide, I felt the need to help her. I _wanted _things to get better for her. In fact, she was the only other person I'd stop to care for the entire day, since I'd been so focused on my feelings this whole time.

I had no brothers or sisters to think of, but even in the span of about two hours, I felt like the girl on front of me was important. Maybe even enough to be considered a sister, _my twin… _

In the next second, I slammed my palms on the table and gasped, making Max jerk to face me from her gaze towards the glass window.

My plan was _brilliant. _If only I'd thought of it sooner! I squealed and jumped in my seat like a little kid, all the while as Max tried to get me to calm down so as to not draw any attention.

"What is it? And god dammit it, Ella, stop bouncing in your seat; you look like a bee found its way in your pants and started having a party in there," she whispered-shouted as she held my shoulders down. But I just couldn't help it. The plan was perfect, so long as Max agreed to it.

"Max," I breathed, not able to get the words out fast enough, "I know what to do! I've got a plan!"

She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Max, you can pretend to be me and live my life, and I can go back as you and try to live yours. Let's trade clothes and everything! _Let's switch places!_"

* * *

><p><strong>Aaand…scene.<strong>

**Tiff:** Just to clarify with ya'll – Max and Ella _aren't _related like they are in the Max Ride series. There won't be some long lost cousin mambo jambo or anything like that; they just so happened to look a like. :)

**Sam:** And again, thanks _soo _much for the reviews last chapter. Let's try and work your magic and do it again, eh? For my "Of Sun and Moon" readers, you're snippet will be coming shortly, because the next chapter is almost up. So yeah, please review. You scratch our backs, we scratch yours, okay? Wait…you think that sounds creepy? Well, so-rry!

**Tiff: **I have never heard of that saying. :|

**Review, review, review!**


	3. Becoming Another

**Unbeknownst**

December 26, 2011

**Written by** _desperatelyobvious_ **(Tiff) and** _maximumrain3_ **(Sam)**

**Sam: **Hello children who have been waiting for an update! The very reason why Tiff and I haven't updated in forever is solely because of me. Yup, I'm accepting full blame…feel free to leave me hate messages. Anyways, Merry Christmas to you folks! :] Hope you enjoy!

**Tiff: **Sam's just being noble, but I'm partially to blame too. :P If you're going to throw rocks at her, throw some at me too, yeah? But, I do feel inclined to point out that not much of you 'scratched our backs' last chapter so…

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Becoming Another<strong>

(_Max_)

Funny thing is, neither an affirmation nor a negation immediately came to mind at Ella's proposal.

Besides the shock that coursed through my entire body at her frankness, there was only a certain something – a certain _someone_ that consumed all previous thoughts and left me there frozen.

I was thinking of _Iggy._

Because I really would've shouted yes in a heartbeat if it weren't for him.

I couldn't help but think back to my past and ponder, and I didn't even have to select specific memories in time because he was in every one of them. He was, is, and always will be there for me.

Normally, I could only think of my tomorrow, where I'd go back to the worn-down orphanage and stay there until I was old enough to be kicked out.

I would get home-schooled for four hours starting 7am, then head straight to the diner and work three shifts waiting tables for nine hours until 8pm. I would go home to rest. And I would wake up to the same dull cream walls I've lived in for 10 years. That's my monotonous routine.

I'll admit that there were times when I felt like giving up, imagining myself breaking down and crying until I had nothing left in me; those were my lowest moments in life. But then I'd think about the boy who had me every step of the way and suddenly life didn't seem so bad. I would _live_ for Iggy.

He was my brother. My best friend. My partner-in-crime. It was as simple as that. _And yet…_

Ella was seated right across me, the brightest light shining in her brown eyes feeling like a ton of bricks in my gut.

And I couldn't seem to get the painful pressure in my chest to go away, eating away at my hopeful heart.

Diverting my eyes downwards to clear my mind of biases, I stared at my grubby hands with its calluses, the grit stuck underneath my fingernails and the scratches that marred my fingers from so many experiences I couldn't even remember.

A few inches away were Ella's hands, one folded over the other with the nails painted a shiny bombshell pink. The fingers were long and slender, and just by looking at them you could tell her skin was smooth and well maintained…

A perfect representation of the princess and the pauper.

It all came back to me – why I'd complained about my life to this stranger in the first place. I'd pretend that I was okay with my life and its adversities; I'd shrug off the help of others and their meaningless sympathy. But I wasn't okay. If I was so content with just this, then I wouldn't have allowed myself to be so open to just anyone.

I was utterly _sick_ of my life.

Filled with renewed fire at everything – at my situation, at my tedious job, at my crappy education, and my general life as a whole, I realized I wanted to start over. I wanted to refresh the pages of my life.

I wanted to get away from Max Ride.

Yes, thoughts of Iggy still burned in the back of my skull as I lifted my eyes to look back at Ella, but I wasn't going to let this chance go. I was finally going to live – live for _myself_.

It hurt to sit straighter on the cushioned seat, to swallow down the dry lump of cotton that lined my throat at the thought of leaving my best friend behind. But I would be leaving him in good hands. I was only holding him down. Maybe Ella could show him everything I couldn't. Teach him all the things I failed to teach him.

She would be the greatest friend I could never seem to be.

The moment I smiled up at her, she knew she had me hook, line, and sinker.

"Well if you're going to be me," I said, "Then you've got a lot to learn, young grasshopper."

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

"_Nooo way._ Nu-uh. Just _no._ Max, this wasn't a part of the deal. I am _not_ cutting my hair."

Ella made sure she got her point across as they both stood outside and stared up at the huge sign, the bright yellow blinking lights of 'The Cutting Edge' salon reflecting on their eyes and bathing their faces in artificial neon.

Rolling her eyes, Max turned to the other girl, giving her an exasperated look. "Stop acting like such a drama queen, Ella. We're wasting time! I don't know if _Ella_ has a curfew, but _Max_ has to be home by nine so we've only got _four _hours left." Max put emphasis to their names, pointing at the real Ella when she'd said Max so that she knew just how serious and fast this was all happening.

"But I love my hair long! It took me _forever_ to grow this. Besides, my boyfriend said it should stay this way and I-"

"Well he's _my_ boyfriend now," Max made a face after saying this, thinking it sounded weird on her lips, "And the real Max looks like _this_." She took of her baseball cap in that second and indicated her entire profile, specifically pointing out the shiny light brown hair that fell in tufts and lightly grazed her shoulders. Somehow even the frayed edges sticking in every direction looked like the hairstyle of some model or actress.

"Well…the real Max might've suddenly thought to get hair extensions?" Ella said innocently, trying to bargain.

No such luck.

"_Noo…_the real Max thinks fake hair is gross, and she'd never have the money for it anyway. Now quit your bitch fit and get in here." With no ounce of patience left in her, Max grabbed Ella by the wrist and dragged her through the double doors, her grip tight and unyielding as Ella struggled uselessly.

It was clear which of the two had wrestled boys in her childhood.

"Y'know, you are _such_ a jerk." Ella huffed when she was finally seated on one of the salon chairs, waiting for the stylist to get his other equipment. He'd looked at them funny, wondering why two teenage girls wanted to have the same hairstyle for twins their age, but didn't question. Maybe some twins just really preferred to look the same, even at the age of 17.

Ella ignored Max from when they'd entered the salon up until now as she sat pouting, her arms cross over her chest.

Max just didn't understand that Ella's hair was her pride and glory; it was crucial for hair flips and looking through the curtain of it as you secretly stare at the latest fine piece of ass. Even though she looked _exactly_ like Max, Ella didn't think that her hairstyle would work on her. It was sort of a Max thing.

And Max didn't provoke Ella the whole time she'd been fuming. No, she was just too amused how someone could adore her hair so much. Her comment, however, made her look up from the gossip magazine Max was distractedly looking through, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline at her choice of words.

"I'm…a _jerk?_ What? Was calling me a 'meanie' too vulgar for you?" Max teased, dropping the magazine and coming to stand next to Ella's chair. "You don't curse? At all? 'Cause you've got to start learning if you're going to be me. I'm especially like a sailor when one of the boys steals my bras. I mean, I think you'd be angry too if some 12 year old kid's sprinting around the sitting room with your good Wonder Woman bra strapped onto his head like some damn kitty cat or something." Max rolled her eyes at the memory.

"Well my mama says that cussing sounds unintelligible and crude."

"Well I guess you can say I _am_ unintelligible and crude." Max winked at her.

Moments later, while Ella occupied herself by reading a magazine as the stylist chopped off her hair layer by layer, Max snuck up behind her and gathered the fallen locks of hair on the floor with the toe of her sneaker. In one swipe, she gathered the long strands in her hand and approached Ella calmly, a normal looking half-smile on her face as if to ask her _'what's up'._

"Hey Els," Max called her attention casually. Ella looked up from her article about some celebrity divorce scandal-

Just as Max proceeded to shake the bundle of Ella's caramel-colored hair all up in her face, making her yelp and jump a foot in her seat.

"_Look at all those dead cells!_" Max said teasingly in a singsong voice.

Ella drew back sharply and swatted Max's hand away, screaming the first thing that came to her mind.

"- the _FUCK! _Get that away from me!"

"Aww, now we're both unintelligible and crude!" Max literally lol-ed, almost rofl-ing if not for the chair that she'd fallen into. She pretended to wipe a fake tear from under her eye as she fake sniffed. "I'm so proud of you."

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

Max couldn't keep the disgusted look off her face as the manicurist continued to paint her toenails with glossy blood red nail polish.

After the whole cursing incident, Ella tried thinking of a way to get back at Max – and what better way than to force her to get her nails done! If Max said she'd never even worn lip gloss a day in her life, then Ella didn't peg her for someone who'd get a manipedi without a fight.

And fight, they did.

"Look Ella, I don't want to waste your money. I'm just going to bump my nails into things, maybe accidentally scratch it around on the pavement the first few second they get done. There's no point," Max reasoned with the other, and this was after Ella had chased her around the space of the hair salon, stole her baseball cap, threatened to discolor it with the nearest hair dye available, and finally got her to calm down.

"But _Max_," Ella made a show her pink nails. "Everyone at school knows I have the perfect nails. I always have them done. Wouldn't it seem kind of weird if I showed up to school on Monday with crooked, dirty nails? I mean, _Ella_ already got a choppy haircut. Let's not put everyone into cardiac arrest."

Max glared at Ella, but only something of feint intensity that didn't make the former run away screaming. "Rub some salt on my wound, why dontcha?"

Presently, Ella was surprised that Max was able to keep her eyebrows scrunched for so long. Her toes were almost done (which surprisingly didn't take an eon), and the manicurist was about to start cleaning her fingernails (which Ella suspected would take an epoch).

"Oh, stop that! You're acting like such a kid. Besides, you're going to get wrinkles if you keep that up," Ella reprimanded.

"Actually, _Ella's_ going to get wrinkles." Max smirked in reply, but at least she stopped frowning.

"Y'know, Flo has more of a right to look disgusted than you do. You're not the one who has to clean the _sewage canal _from underneath _your_ nails." Ella pointed at the manicurist, who tried to stifle her half-smile as she eavesdropped on the twins' conversation.

"But really, Ella? _Really?_ Blood red. It attracts so much attention; I bet the cops are on their way here right now. In fact, I can already hear the _tourists_ approaching."

Ella could only smile at her naivety. "Oh Max, that's just who I am. Hey, it was either that or neon green. Take your pick."

And at that, Max sat straighter in her seat and stared down at her clean and polished toenails. "Y'know suddenly, I'm really starting to like this color."

When Flo was finally putting the last coating on Max's fingernails, the twins had eased into normal conversation and finally reached the topic of their parents. Flo didn't really know what to make of two sets of parents from their stories, but she wasn't paid to question them anyway.

"You're _kidding_ me. Your dad _seriously_ dressed up as Mary-Kate to your Ashley when you were eight? I _need_ to see a picture of this." Max was stunned silly. He's one heck of a father to go dress up as an Olsen twin on Halloween just for his daughter.

"Well he didn't wear a bra or a skirt or anything. Mom made him wear this frilly blouse and we wore matching wigs around the village. It was so much fun." Ella laughed as she remembered, a few select snippets of her past still vivid in her mind with ever color and detail committed to memory. It hurt to see how different her parents had become over the years but she _chose_ to remember what she could of the past. They were the only things she had left of the parents she loved.

"A mom who's led a flash mob in college and a dad who's been Mary-Kate Olsen in his life? Your parents sound _awesome_," Max said.

"Correction: they _used to_ be awesome. Now they're just a stiff, politic-crazy couple who forgot that they _actually_ have a daughter, but only seem to _remember_ her when she makes mistakes," Ella spat, so far away as she recalled what went down that afternoon when she got home from school.

Max nudged her with her elbow and gave her a small smile. "Want a little sugar to go with that cup of bitter?" she joked.

Again, Ella was thankful that Max didn't start apologizing for her parents' shortcomings. It wasn't her fault that things ended up this way.

Clearing her throat to shift the ambience, Ella decided to ask about Max's parents. Ella didn't really think things through though when she blurted her question, forgetting that Max had mentioned that she had no parents.

"How 'bout you? What are your parents like?" she questioned, then immediately wanted to disappear into the ground.

Max actually faltered for a second, blinking twice to comprehend what was asked, before going on as if unperturbed. She figured it was an innocent-enough question; she could answer this.

"My mom always said I took after her, so I guess she's kind of like me. Eccentric, a little bit of everything. She was very bossy at times, but loved to joke around. She was very passionate about her work, but she valued her family even more."

Max stared at a spot on her knee as she spoke, lightly grasping at the memories that floated on the surface of her mind. While she liked to think about her mom sometimes, it would just pain her sevenfold as the events that happened afterwards came crashing down on her. And thinking about that was very bad.

Even though Max's descriptions were vague, Ella could just imagine an older Max going through life. What she couldn't imagine was how someone as determined as Max could just suddenly stop moving forward one day. If her mom was anything like her daughter, then she would've still been bursting with energy. In the few hours that Ella's known Max, she just _knew_ she was a fighter.

"And what happened to her?" Ella asked in a tiny voice.

"Cancer happened. She got diagnosed when I was six, but it was already too late and she died a year later. She's dead."

To think, while Ella and her father were trick or treating around their town, little Max was curling up next to her sick mother in the hospital, unable to go candy hunting herself since her mom wasn't well enough to accompany her. And if she'd ended up in the orphanage, then Max must've lost her father to death too, Ella thought.

"How 'bout your dad? Did he, umm…die after your mom?" Ella was stepping on thin ice as she asked this, but she just _had_ to know.

Nobody noticed the way Max's eyes shifted. It was clear she didn't like talking about her father either.

"Yeah, he did. My dad's dead to me," she whispered.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

_(Ella)_

As Max and I made our way to the salon's bathroom, I couldn't help but praise the gods hallelujah as I finally got away from the suffocating atmosphere. We continued to talk after the conversation about our parents, but the lingering tension of it all just wouldn't go away.

However different my and Max's personalities are, at least I know we've both got parental issues in common. And I know that's something I should never touch again.

"Okay, I'll change in this one and you go to that one," Max indicated to the bathroom stalls. "Let's be quick. Someone might hear us and start to get suspicious," she said and got right to work, closing her stall and draping her bomber jacket over the door before I could even comprehend her simple instructions.

This marked the last thing we needed to do before I became Max and she became Ella. We figured that since we looked _exactly_ the same now, we could swap clothes and no one would know the difference.

The haircut and the attitude lessons were steps to becoming Max, but it was the full body transformation that really struck me with finality. No one would think I was me anymore. Even if I passed some of my friends in the streets dressed as Max, I was no longer Ella Martinez.

This was it.

Snapping out of it, I followed suite and slowly but surely pulled my blouse over my head, careful not to ruin my new hairstyle. "Wait for me!"

Just as I was unbuckling my belt with head bent down in concentration, a loud smacking sound made me stumble back and crash against the dirty wall of the cubicle, my arms flat against the wall on either side of me as I looked around wildly for the source of the noise.

_Of course_, it could've only been one thing. I glared at the clothes she'd draped on the cubicle wall.

"_MAX!_" I shrieked, trying not to cry as I peeled myself off the wall and held a hand to my chest.

"What?"

"Don't throw your flippin' clothes like that! You almost made me shit a brick!" I reprimanded her, and then mentally scolded myself for saying 'shit' so lightly. Max was really starting to rub off on me.

"What? Did you want me to come out of my stall half-naked and knock on your door politely with a plate of cookies? Now hurry up! This is awkward."

"Okay, okay! Yeesh. Don't get your knickers in a twist…"

"Y'know, I'm standing in my undergarments right now, slightly pissed that you're taking so damn long, so don't be making underwear jokes right now."

"I'm sorry, okay? These skinny jeans are just so…_skinny._"

"Well then you should've thought to buy fatty jeans. It would've saved you the trouble."

"Oh ha ha, Max. Very funny."

When I was finally able to get my jeans off without having to touch the toilet or the cubicle walls (point for Ella!), I started changing into Max's clothes.

"Where did you buy your clothes at? The men's section?" I questioned her, assessing each (rather _big_) garment in my hands and trying not to be too bothered by the frayed threads or the tiny holes I found.

"What tween shop do _you_ get your clothes at? Justice? Jeez, Els. My armpits can't _breathe!_" she shot back. I decided to ignore that comment.

The shirt slipped on easily, and the jacket was snug and warm, but the biggest obstacle was her jeans. Good Lord, her jeans…

Major kudos to Max if she wore these kinds of pants everyday.

My toes kept slipping into the rips, making me take forever to get them on. It was almost as if my toes were mocking me whenever they'd pop up and say hello. It took me at least eight tries for each pant leg before the jeans were on and I was zipping it up.

Mission accomplished.

As I was putting on Max's pants, I could tell she was having trouble putting on _my_ pants as I'd occasionally hear her cuss or mumble something like, _"…stupid anorexic jeans…how the frick does Ella sit in this thing?...oh God, my poor thighs…"_

I giggled just thinking about it.

I didn't really know how, but Max was still able to change faster than me even as she continued to complain about how revealing my blouse was or how tight my jeans were. When I finally stepped out of the bathroom stall, the first thing I saw was Max sitting on the counter, putting on the sandals that I had passed to her.

And with Max's thin legs bent out in front of her and her messy short hair surprisingly complimenting the outfit, I just exploded.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Max, you look so freakin' _hot!_ Oh, if only you were wearing my fuchsia pumps, it would've looked _perfect!_ I feel so lesbian right now, I'm not even kidding," I told her, taking a step back again to give her another once over. Dang, I'm _good._

Max only laughed and scooted over on the counter to give me space to sit. As I started to lace up her scruffy Converses, she turned to face me with an amused look.

"Ella, you do realize that this was the exact outfit you were wearing a few moments ago," and she lightly shook her head. "You are too vain for your own good."

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

_(Max)_

We had an hour and a half to kill once we'd both stepped out of 'The Cutting Edge' salon and onto the grey city streets. The rain had reduced to a misty drizzle, but we both didn't really care that we were getting wet. Things seemed so good right now that I just simply didn't care.

"Don't forget this," I said to Ella, putting on my old cap on her head and knocking the brim down just to annoy her. It was crazy how much she looked like the old me; the one I used to see in the mirror everyday when I got ready for 'school' and my job. If someone had told me that one day I was going to be looking at myself as someone else, sounding all mysterious and crap, I would've laughed and shot them the bird. _Huh._

She looked a little uncomfortable as she grudgingly tucked her newly trimmed hair into it, taking a while since she hasn't mastered the art of securing everything in one deft swipe of the hand. My level of expertise.

"You'll get used to it," I assured her. I mean, I didn't really know how to teach her how to be _me_, but living a little was a start, right? And besides, my life was routine – a boring and tiring routine where nothing exciting ever happens; surely she would get used it to sooner or later.

"Likewise with my sandals," Ella said smugly, and we both looked down to my wriggling toes underneath the jewel-encrusted straps. I was hoping it wasn't too obvious how I'd waddle around in them; I didn't know how Ella could easily strut in them like she own the world when there was only that one cord in between your toes supporting the whole sole. Fashion is just _strange._

Conversation ensued as we walked down the streets, and I found it really easy to get along with Ella. She wasn't like other people; most can't stand my sarcasm and attitude, but she didn't let it bother her and just laughs in response. She'd even started to reply with comebacks; I guess I was really infectious. Ella had a problem with her parents, but despite all the trash talk and the stories of how she'd fight with them, I knew that it was just a front she puts up. I can see that she's a good person; she just misses her mom and dad.

In a way, she was sort of like a sister to me. I didn't have any siblings, but we told each other everything without hesitation. Our relationship wasn't anything like what I have with Iggy – but she came a distant second.

Right now, Ella was telling me about her boyfriend Dylan – and pretty much everything I needed to know about him. Some information that was even _too_ much for my liking…

Just as she was about to launch into a story about this beach they went to with their friends, Ella just suddenly stopped in her stride and held onto my blouse to get me to stop too. Her grip made the top pull back, exposing my shoulder and a part of my bra when she let go. Quickly righting it, I glanced around to see if anyone saw; wouldn't want some stranger to get a free show now.

Ella's panicked look wasn't what I was hoping I'd see. "What? What's wrong?"

"Max," she breathed, and her dramatic pause almost made my stomach fall out of my butt. "My ears are pierced. You're gonna have to pierce yours too." And just to prove it to me like I wouldn't have figured, she tilted her head and held her earlobe, the tiny diamond winking at me.

I held a hand to my chest. "_Jeez_, Ella. You made it sound like you felt a kick in your stomach or something."

"But…should we go to the hospital or something? I mean there are special doctors that do that when you're a baby, right? Do you think they'd be willing to pierce the ears of someone who's…not a baby?"

Oh God, her innocence is _adorable_.

"Gee, I'm glad you know I'm not a kid anymore, Els. But I know this town like the back of my hand; I used to work as a delivery girl when I was 14. Come on, I know this place a few blocks away," I said.

And we were off to 'Susan's Ink and Jewelry Shop'.

How hilariously misleading.

It was even funnier when Ella and I stopped on front of the store and took in the look of the shop through the glass window - all the graffiti, the black walls painted with pictures of skulls and racy pin-up girls, the posters, and the various numbers and writings that people have left over the years. I'd pay big bucks for a picture of Ella's stunned face right now.

"Okay, this place is _creepy_. Are you sure no one's gonna jump out and stab us with an ice pick or something?" she whispered under her breath as we entered the shop, holding onto my arm as we moved further in.

"Take a chill pill, Els. You're not the one who's getting her ears pierced."

Business was slow as I noticed only one guy was having his back tattooed in the far corner of the room. His bare back was facing us, the huge wings being permanently etched onto his flesh standing out in black ink. It actually looked pretty sweet.

One of the workers finally noticed us then – a tiny girl with wild red and black hair – and asked what we were here for. After a few more strange looks from her (since I was asking as Ella Martinez, holding my two ton designer handbag and shifting uncomfortably in my XXS floral blouse), we were finally seated and the girl told us to wait a few moments as she prepared her equipment.

Ella looked more nervous than I did in the shop, sweating up a storm from underneath the baseball cap that I decided to ask more about her friends just to calm her down. She started telling me about her best friend Nudge this time, and from her stories she sounded like an exact carbon copy of Ella. Yes, _two _Ellas. What fun.

"And you? Do you have a boyfriend, or a best friend in the orphanage?" Ella asked.

"Yeah, his name's Iggy."

"Boyfriend _and_ best friend?"

I did a double take and almost fell off my chair. _And_ my eyes were probably the size of dinner plates. _And_ I was on the verge of chocking on my own spit. "_Fuck_ no! Iggy's _just_ my best friend. He's been with me through everything and he's the only person I truly trust. He's my only friend."

Suddenly, Ella got this smug smirk on her face and I should've taken that as my cue to cover my ears. "So it's just the two of you, right? And I guess that means you do _everything _together, yeah? 'Cause I can just imagine: You and Iggy, doing your laundry together in the silence. You suddenly notice there's a stain on the shirt he's wearing, so you take it off for him _and-_"

I abruptly cut her off by shoving a hand to her mouth, shuddering with disgust at where she was getting at with her sentence. Just _everything_ was wrong with that image. _Nasty…_

She was really bad at this teasing thing, but it still made the heat rise to my cheeks. Sadly, I wasn't immune to blushing.

"Ella, Iggy's like my sidekick. He's the Robin to my Batman. The Kato to my Green Hornet. We're like partners-in-crime," I explained slowly, hoping to get my message across.

"Crimes _of passion…_"

"_You're disgusting!_"

When the girl with the wild hair came back, she began prepping my ear with a cotton of alcohol. I didn't really think to worry too much about this. I mean, it was just a tiny hole in your ear, right? It probably just felt like an ant bite, or a tiny pinch to the skin. Harmless.

"Hey, umm…is this even safe?" Ella decided to ask the girl as she slid the earring and the clasp into the gun. My ears were already marked with a Sharpie – one ity bity dot on either of my earlobes.

"Sure is," the girl replied in a bore tone, as if she gets this question all the time.

"And your equipment is sterile?" Ella questioned some more, concerned if I suddenly got some disease or something.

"Clean as a whistle." _Because surely _all_ whistles are clean. Note the sarcasm._

I tried not to tense as the girl held onto my ear and got the gun in place, the target on the black dot where the earring would be.

"Ready?" she asked, drawing out the suspense.

"_Just get on with it already!_"

And that bitch had better migrate to China before I decide to hunt her down and shoot her brains out with an AK-47. 'Safe and sterile equipment' my ass.

The needle of the earring piercing through my skin was no problem at all. It hurt a bit, but it wasn't like I needed to call an ambulance or something. I'm a pretty tough chick.

However, when the lady pulled back with the gun _thinking_ that her equipment was working perfectly _fine_, the gun got stuck to the back clasp and I found myself falling forward on my chair, my ear followed the movement of the gun in the girl's hand. Obviously, I wasn't a happy camper.

"_MOTHER F-!_" I bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming bloody murder, on my knees on the ground as the girl kept cursing and shaking the gun to get the trigger to click back. I could faintly hear Ella screaming in the background as well but I could only focus on the biting pain in my ear.

Eventually, the girl was able to get it to work again.

She then pierced my other ear after she'd tested the gun at least 12 times; and when Ella and I were finally out on the streets again with me holding a bloody piece of tissue to my ear, I turned to face her.

"You and your damn needs. I mean, all you had to do is cut your hair and that's that, while I had to get holes in my goddamn earlobes and get my ears all freakin' bloody. Do you have anything else you wanna tell me about?" I spat, shifting her-_my_ handbag to my other shoulder in annoyance.

Her hands flew to her lower abdomen and she shook her head hastily, probably scared shitless from my outburst. Whoops.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. "Come on. Let's go find a place to eat, then we can get to talking about your other friends," I proposed.

I saw Ella visibly perk at the sudden turn of my mood.

"And we can go back to talking about you and Iggy…"

"_Ella!_"

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

_(Max)_

By about 9pm, I was walking Ella back to the orphanage. We were laughing all the while as we stumbled drunkenly on the sidewalk, clutching our stomachs and wiping tears from our eyes. I couldn't seem to remember what was so funny, but I was enjoying myself that much that I didn't even realize we'd finally reached the grey slab of concrete until I almost ran into the huge sign by the entrance. Instantly, we both sobered up and halted a few feet away from its black gate, the abrupt silence bringing us back to our reality.

I turned on my heel to face Ella, assessing her appearance one last time and tugging my – _her _jacket flaps like a mother would.

"Remember, I do my laundry every Saturday with Iggy," I didn't miss the smug look she gave me but decided to ignore it. "Just follow whatever he does. Oh! And make sure you always leave your hair down at the orphanage, ponytail it for work, and tuck it into this cap whenever you go out. And always come late for-"

"-Math classes in the sitting room. I know, I know," Ella chuckled, prying my hands away as she took a step back. "Gosh Max, we can pull this off. I _know_ we can. I feel like I've known you forever…and I'm actually kinda sad we have to part ways now," she said thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip as she fiddled with the frayed edges of her t-shirt.

"Me too," I began to admit out loud, and in the next second I was enveloped into a big bear hug, the brim of her cap bumping my temple when she'd jumped me.

"Whoa, Ella! It's not like we won't see each other again. We'll meet up sometime." I wasn't used to much physical contact from others, so I could feel myself start to go stiff as I awkwardly patted her back.

"Just text me in case of anything, okay? Iggy can be a handful sometimes." I smiled against her hair as it dawned on me how real this was. We were really switching lives.

She pulled away before I was able to realize her actions, and suddenly I found myself staring up at her figure on the porch right before the grand wooden door. She spun around one more time to wave at me, and for a moment I almost stopped her.

My eyes shot to the second floor, to the third window on the right.

I felt it again – the sadness at leaving Iggy without saying goodbye. I would never see his face for a long while and already I was missing his witty remarks, his laid-back persona, and even his mere presence that I've grown so accustomed to. I wanted to run upstairs and just tackle him in a huge hug, to feel his love and care just one more time.

But I couldn't do any of those anymore, because I was Ella Martinez.

"Thank you, Max. For everything," Ella said as she placed her hand on the doorknob, ready to become me – Max Ride.

I shifted my gaze back to her and saluted with two fingers, smirking.

"You too! And my name's not Max!" I responded as I started to turn around. "_It's Ella!_"

Then I made my way back home.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

Charles Martinez took a sip of his coffee before he leaned back on the plush couch, awaiting the public announcement of his new vice-mayor in the local news.

He already knew who'd won, but seeing it on TV made the reality of working with his good friend Thomas Harding really hit him. He disliked his old vice-mayor and was excited for the many different ideas Thomas had from his campaign. It would be great.

His wife Valencia, on the other hand, had her mind elsewhere. She was very happy for her husband, but at the same time she couldn't stop thinking about more pressing matters – more specifically their daughter.

"Honey," Valencia broke the comfortable silence, shifting from beside her husband to face him better. "I'm really worried about Ella."

"What about Ella?" Charles asked, giving his entire attention to her, putting the TV on mute.

"Well…don't you think we've been too hard on her lately? 'Cause I know she's been breaking a few house rules, but it's not like we were never kids ourselves. Remember when you used to sneak out of your house to meet up with me," she said, elbowing her husband at their high school memories.

"You know, I was actually thinking the same thing this afternoon. Her teacher e-mailed her progress report a few days ago, says she's been getting straight Bs." Charles looked down at his hands on his lap.

Valencia sighed with remorse and came to lean her head on her husband's shoulder. "Oh honey, I feel so bad. It's not as if Ella's completely irresponsible. I think we should be more lenient towards her. I mean, it's also our fault for not being there. Maybe she's having problems that she's not telling us."

Charles put his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. She wasn't facing him, but Valencia could feel her husband's shoulder move as he nodded his head in agreement.

"You're right, hon. Let's try to fix this family."

* * *

><p><strong>Sam: <strong>Sooo…once again…it was my fault for this chapter being up so late. And I know I really don't have a right to say this, much less ask for this, but could you guys please review a bit more lol? The first chapter had 40+ reviews…the previous one had like, 12. So…could you guys please review? As a Christmas present? :] Thanks and have a Merry Christmas! :D

**Tiff: **Happy Christmas and have a Merry New Year, guys! And if you're mad about the late update – hate on us, not the story. Please tell us what you thought about this chapter and I swear, the next one's going to be _sweet_. :)


	4. Twice is Fate

**Unbeknownst**

**April 9, 2012**

**Written by** _desperatelyobvious_ **(Tiff) and** _maximumrain3_ **(Sam)**

**Tiff: **Hell-o…okey, so now this late update was my fault. Heh heh.

**Sam: **She's lying. It's _my _fault. Completely.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Twice is Fate<strong>

_(Ella)_

I imagined myself strutting in the house like a total bamf, trying to live up to Max's name.

I _tried_ to, but the moment I shut the door behind me a group of about five kids ran past me in a flurry, making me press my back against the door and almost squeal out loud.

_Oh man, I can't do this…_

Shoving my hands into my pockets to cover the fact that they were shaking, I made my way to the stairs that would bring me to the bedrooms – _my_ bedroom, at the end of the hall to the right, almost isolated from everyone else's.

Before I was able to make my first step on the narrow staircase, however, a slightly hunched up woman in her forties came around the corner and looked up at me, her eyebrows immediately scrunching up and her lips pursing with disapproval.

_Oh gosh, she knows… Oh no! It's over! She can tell I'm not-_

"Max, I see both your hands are empty. What happened to the errands I asked you to take care of?" she asked, re-tying her graying dark brown hair to keep back all the loose locks.

Internally, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and praised the Lord Almighty, but to her I had to act distressed and apologetic.

"Oh, right. Sorry Anne," I said, remembering Max's description of the orphanage owner. Her full name was Anne Walker, and as Max put it, _'She's not so bad. Just a bit overbearing at times and a little nosy. She's harmless.'_ Mrs. Walker to the little ones but Max and the older kids all just call her Anne. "The traffic was really bad and the streets were crowded. And when I reached the market, they were all out. Look, I promise I'll run by the shop again tomorrow." I was just about to give her a bashful smile as well, but then thought better of it knowing that wasn't how Max rolled.

She stared at me for a few seconds, her gaze creeping me out a little, then decided to let me go with a wave of her hand. She bid me goodnight and left the same way she came.

I made sure she was out of sight before I pumped a fist in the air.

_Aww yeah… I should get a career in Hollywood!_

To avoid more encounters for the night, I quickly ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. I'd just made it to the landing and was about to veer right when a deep voice echoed throughout the hall, making me stop in my tracks.

"Max…is that you?" the voice called.

Turning in place, I lifted my chin slowly to try to put a name to the stranger (Max had described almost everyone I needed to know), and immediately I knew I was facing Max's best friend.

He was exactly how she'd described him – exceedingly tall and surprisingly built in a lanky sort of way, with pale blond hair and cloudy cerulean blue eyes. She even admitted he was handsome.

At first I didn't believe her – I mean, I'm sure everyone says that about their best friend. That was part of the rules of friendship or something.

But now that I was facing him, standing a few feet away from his rigid form, I had to agree with Max. He _was_ good-looking. Actually, that was an understatement. He was fricken' _gorgeous._

Max _so_ did not do her best friend justice.

"_Iggy…_" I whispered, his name coming to my lips so easily. It was like I already knew him from just the stories Max told.

I didn't know if he'd somehow heard me say his name but I looked on as he proceeded to awkwardly stumble towards me, then suddenly wrap his arms around me and crush me to his chest.

The emotions that poured forth from me were almost enough to bring tears to my eyes. I knew that sounded exaggerated, but I could feel _so much_ in this single embrace that it was so overwhelming.

I could tell just by this gesture that he cared a lot for Max, more than she ever knew. All his love exuded from this, and I know it wasn't meant for me, but I couldn't help but revel in the feel of it. It was _such_ a nice feeling.

Max was never clear about her relationship with Iggy. In her stories, she'd call him her best friend, but made it sound like they could be something more. From the way she spoke of him and the way they stuck to each other like glue, it sounded like they were a couple.

But then they couldn't be, because Max said she's never dated anyone in her life. She loved Iggy, but not in _that_ way, and ultimately it was not enough to make her stay.

"Oh God, I was so worried about you. You were gone for so long and it was raining like heck for hours. You didn't even think to call." He tried reprimanding me, but his tone was more worried than angry. I could feel the warmth of his palm as he cupped the back of my head and I couldn't help but melt in his embrace.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled weakly against his chest, inhaling his scent of toothpaste and something I couldn't put my finger on.

It was sad to note that I haven't felt this kind of hug for ages. I'd get hugged by Dylan, but it was not like this. And Nudge gave the most comforting hugs ever, but I seemed to feel more at peace in this stranger's arms.

He held me there as I hugged him back, gripping the back of his shirt with balled fists for what seemed like the longest time.

And I realized that finally, _finally_, I felt like I was home.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

_(Max)_

I trudged into the living room, my shoulders hunched slightly, eyes glued to the floor. I tried taking deep breaths to calm my nerves, but the sound of my heart hammering wildly in my chest filled my ears, somehow sabotaging any hope of that.

_It was judgment day. _

When I finally got the courage, I raised my gaze up to the couch where I could see the back of Ella's parents' heads. I wasn't even able to see their faces yet, to determine whether they were kind or callous people, but at that moment – even considering the fact that they were strangers – I couldn't help the swelling in my chest. It was a different kind of swelling from the ones I'd experienced throughout my life. This swelling didn't hurt, but instead gave me simple feelings of pure happiness.

_I was going to have parents._

Even for just a little while, I was _finally _going to have parents. But parents I had to trick into believing that I was their daughter. Parents that I would be taking advantage of, even _lying_ to them about who I really was - the person I was tired of being.

The sin of self-loathing scarred my soul, but I couldn't help it. I must've been an awful daughter to be given this fate. I must've been an unworthy candidate not to have been adopted for ten straight years, not even looked at once by the parents. And I _knew_ I was the worse kind of friend, leaving behind the only person that could love me in the dust.

Guilt washed over me in waves. They didn't deserve a daughter like me… heck, _I _didn't deserve this… but _God, I wanted this so bad_.

They were watching a newsreel when I had first walked into the living room, something about the newly elected vice-mayor, but before I knew it, the TV shut off and Ella's parents - my _parents_ were standing up from the couch. And in the next second, they'd turned around, seeing me standing uncomfortably in the back of the room, my eyes wide with shock and anticipation.

"Ella," the woman said first after a prolonged silence, "_What have you done to your hair?_"

I haven't even said a word yet and they hated me already. I got that feeling again. The one where I felt suffocated, unable to move . . . _trapped._ The one where I thought everyone would judge me because they just _knew _where I'd come from, that I was without parents and lived in a worn-down orphanage.

I glanced at the door again, considering bolting right out so that the horrid feeling could go away. I lowered my head down in humiliation.

_What was I thinking?_

I couldn't _actually_ pull off being Ella. There was no way a person could feign the elegance, the beauty, and just the overall _classiness_ she had. Things that I'd never experienced before in my life_._

The woman walked over to me, gently lifting my chin up to look me in the eyes. I was forced to stare right back, but soon realized that it was hard not to, anyway. Ella's mother was breath-taking, the kind that only grew more beautiful with age. She looked nothing like me or Ella with her long dark brown hair twisted and topped on her head in a loose bun, her features Hispanic, but all three of us had the common denominator of brown eyes – like hot chocolate.

The look in her eyes now _was_ like hot chocolate, soothing and sweet. My entire body started to ease at its familiarity, as if I was actually looking into my blood mother's eyes, but that all went to shit when her eyebrows rose.

_Shit. She can tell I'm not her daughter._

The thought of being turned away again – _unwanted - _almost sent me on the verge of tears. I'm a strong girl; I can deal with a lot of things, but not this. Not this again.

"I've been asking you to cut your hair for _years,_" she told me, an incredulous expression on her face. "You look _wonderful_, sweetheart."

Her eyes were so warm, so _honest_ that I couldn't help but give in to the tugging at the corners of my lips.

I think I was smiling.

She cupped my face in both of her soft hands, pressing her evensofter lips against my forehead. I could feel the warmth only a mother could possess as she encased me in a hug, and I relished in the moment, closing my eyes and inhaling her mild perfume.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling, "_Mom_."

And I was not thanking her for the compliment, or even for the hug, but for what she was unknowingly giving me.

The chance to taste what it felt like to have a mother. A family.

"Doesn't dad get a hug?" I heard a deep-masculine voice say, and from the corner of my eye I could see a man smiling in our direction.

The stranger moving towards us uncannily resembled both me and Ella – I mean, if we were both grown men. His eyes were a hard blue, surely from the hard day's work as mayor of the town, but everything else – the cheekbones, the eyebrows, and the hair color – was both ours.

Mom suddenly pulled away, and for a moment, I missed her warm ambience; but it was soon replaced by a different kind of warmth. Whereas hers was gentle and caring, his was secure and strong. The man kissed the top of my head, his arms holding me to him firmly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make my heart constrict with affection.

This was _unbelievable. _I, the girl known as the Great Maximum Ride who was usually indifferent and unemotional with people, was now feeling something that felt a lot like love for these complete strangers that I'd just met. And yet something about all of this felt so right.

So _undeniably_ right.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

The expanse of the room was tainted with the Easter colors of bright yellow and baby pink, the rays of the sun spilling through the French double doors of Ella's balcony and intermingling with the pink hues of the walls.

Everything about Ella's room screamed of her personality. The décor was all lace and ribbons, with the curtains made of taffeta and the bed sheets and comforter soft and neutral compared to the rest of the elements in the room. All the furniture was a clean white – her headboard, desk, vanity, the closets, cabinets and doors – and all her belongings were pastel colors such as orange, blue and lavender.

Due to Ella's lazy attitude, however, the crispness of it all was ruined by her scattered things strewn about, articles of clothing draped over the sofa in front of her bed and her school bag splayed by one of the legs of her desk, some contents popping out. There was no organized fashion to the various make-ups on her vanity, and there were even plastics and shopping bags left unopened beneath the flat screen TV on her wall.

This was the only room where Ella could truly be herself, left alone, just her and her thoughts. It was her sanctuary, her personal Nirvana since yesterday ever since she and Max made the agreement.

All of this, and her life, was Max's now.

The girl in question rubbed her eyes and sighed, turning her head on the pillow to look at the bright red numbers that read 8:06 a.m. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she realized that this was the first time in a long time that she wasn't up before sunrise. In her old life she'd be helping Anne and Iggy make breakfast for the younger kids, and if she were lucky, Iggy would've let her sleep a little longer before waking her up.

She stretched like a cat, yawning a final time before slowly pulling the warm duvets away from her body. Pushing herself up and then sitting on the edge of the bed, she found herself looking straight at her reflection in the mirror.

For just a mere second, no, maybe just for half a second, she thought she was looking at Ella's reflection and not hers. For a _half_ of a second… she believed that she was attractive.

But after looking at herself for a prolonged time, she realized that it was silly – thinking that she was something _other_ than revolting to the eye.

Because no one had ever told her that she was _in fact _beautiful, she'd never really took into consideration that she was. She believed that once a person looked at her long enough, then they would see who she really was. And who she would always be. And why would she think otherwise, since no one had given her a second glance or even merely teased her with another kid from the orphanage?

Max figured it was a waste of breath and time. She just wasn't worth it.

So when Max had had enough of how she looked in the mirror, drinking it all in, she turned her head away and pushed off from the bed without looking back.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

(_Max)_

After a nice, long hot shower, I made my way downstairs into the dining room where my parents were sitting at a long mahogany table. Breakfast was set in front of them; an arrangement of eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes and fruit. In short, it was breakfast galore.

My mother greeted me with a warm smile as I sat down in the empty chair in front of her, while dad was seated at the end of the table. He pulled his newspaper down low enough for me to see his blue eyes and graying eyebrows.

"Well good morning, Ella. It's nice of you to join us for breakfast for once," he said. His voice was deep, but I could tell he wasn't angry. More surprised than angry, that was for sure.

"I just missed eating together," I replied, smiling at him.

There was a sparkle in his eyes that let me know I made him smile, even though I couldn't see his lips. "That's nice to hear, honey."

Breakfast was mostly quiet after that, a few '_pass the ketchup, please_' here and there, but there was no real conversation. It was another contrast to the orphanage, where everyone would be laughing and talking with the occasional throwing of food.

Then I thought about Ella and how she was adjusting to all the chaos I just knewshe wasn't used to. I knew she was nice, _'just misunderstood'_ as she had put it, but I really didn't know how she was going to tolerate the screaming kids smashing pancakes into her face. God, I'd like to see that…

"Ella," Mom said, picking up her cloth napkin from her lap, and elegantly patting her lips with it, "What time would you like to go and pick up your dress for the party tonight?"

Wait…_party?_

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

(_Ella) _

"PAAARTAAY!"

I laughed as one of the kids, Simon, I think his name was, stood on top of the counter screaming '_Party'_ at the top of his lungs. His long brown disheveled hair fell into his eyes, giving him the appearance of Tarzan as he pounded his chest with his fists.

Anne had left to get the groceries I'd failed to get the day before, leaving Iggy and me in charge of breakfast.

Eventually, Iggy got everyone to calm down enough to actually sit at the table. I looked down at the stack of pancakes, secretly proud of myself for making some of them myself. The perfectly round ones were Iggy's and the torn ones that looked like they had been run over by a truck, beaten by a hammer, and then run over again were mine. But _I _had made them nonetheless.

I stood leaning against the counter, watching as Iggy gracefully gave each kid two pancakes.

A little girl of about four years old climbed down from her chair, brought her plate with her, and wobbled over to me.

"Max, can you cut my pancakes?" She had big brown eyes and she was smiling so sweetly that it could've made bitter medicine taste like candy.

I smiled down at her and nodded.

Then it hit me as I was cutting her pancakes.

_I don't think I've ever laughed and smiled this much in one day…_

And it was only breakfast.

**- - - - -O- - - - -**

(_Max)_

I _hate_ Ella.

She'd told me _everything _about her life; her boyfriend, her best friend, her posse _and_ their names, _which clothes were in what drawer_… but she couldn't tell me that there was a friggin' party the next day? A party where there was going to be a ton of people in their fancy clothes, standing in their fancy shoes, talking about fancy things?

_Dear God, if it's not too much trouble, could you possibly send down a bolt of lightning through my window to smite me before I even dare think about stepping into high heels?_

But as it was, I found myself hobbling like a new born baby giraffe as my parents and I travelled down to the new vice-mayor's house, which _so happens_ to be right next door. Oh, and let's not forget the rose pink cocktail dress I was currently wearing, the tailor-made outfit tight around the bodice making it hard to breath, the intricate bead work making me itch, and the length making me feel utterly naked. _Jesus…_

_Clearly_ He didn't answer my prayers.

Because of everything I've already seen in the past, the enormity and design of the vice-mayor's house didn't faze me. My time spent as a delivery girl opened my eyes to the contrasts of this town; I've been to the slums of the city, as well as having ventured into these parts.

I couldn't tell if this mansion was as big as my home, or if it was a tiny bit smaller, but that didn't really matter. Just as grand as the rest of the houses in this neighborhood, the façade was complete with two jutting balconies and a pair of columns to frame the wooden double doors that made the entrance. Floodlights raked the exterior walls, and I looked on as the lights travelled father down their property. The length was overwhelming; I was afraid to find out about its width.

Trudging on and trying not to make a complete idiot of myself, I refrained from cursing aloud, the habitual words on the tip of my tongue, ready to come pouring out in torrents as I stared up at their never-ending driveway. _Of course_ they'd have a driveway as long as ours, like the one I'd just braved.

Of course.

As soon as we arrived (with my calves hurting like a bitch), people had naturally gathered around us, congratulations being thrown at my dad about being re-elected as mayor of the town like tomatoes at a bad performance. It took everything in me not to push away the ones that got too close and instead I forced a smile on my face, keeping quiet.

It went on for a long while, an eternity it felt, until it seemed like everyone at the party was circled around us, my chest aching as I met the gaze of people's stares.

_What if they knew I wasn't really Ella? Why were they staring at me?_

Since I was usually tough-skinned, I tried not to let this get to me and continued on smiling at the masses – pretending to be just little ol' Ella Martinez, perfect daughter of the mayor. I really did try, but this was the first time I'd gotten so much attention, people even shaking _my_ hands for Pete's sake, like it was some privilege to meet the daughter of the mayor. Or maybe they were congratulating me for _being_ the daughter of the mayor; I didn't really know.

Inevitably, all the bodies pressing, trying to get closer to my father, and all the stares that never seemed to waver finally took its toll and I wanted, _needed _to breathe.

When an opportunity came, I asked to be excused to go to the bathroom and was thankfully let out. With luck, my _only_ luck that night, I'd found a slightly secluded area near one of the hallways. I couldn't really tell where I was, but I didn't care. Here, I was left alone to catch my breath (because this stupid dress didn't help any), all the while calming my heart that was attempting to push out of my chest.

I was Maximum _freakin'_ Ride - versatile and strong – and yet I couldn't handle a few people looking at me. I guess I just panicked, never having been given so much importance and attention that I freaked out. Surely they couldn't tell I wasn't Ella; I look _exactly_ like her. Besides, there was no other choice but to adjust to my parents' convenience. I was a much better actor than this and doubtless Ella's family experienced this kind of fame all the time.

I could do this.

New resolve in mind, I took one last deep breath and pushed off the wall to start looking for my parents in the crowd. It was a feat since a lot of people tended to have the same boring features - snooty faces held high with their elegantly-styled hair - making me think I was going around in circles, but as I was looking through the crowds, one particular person amongst the throng made me stop and stare.

In the distance and as if everything was playing in slow motion, I spotted the guy from in between two silhouettes of conversing gentlemen, my eyes trained on his still figure. He looked exactly as I'd seen him the first time, arms crossed over his chest with his face angled so that I could see every perfect feature just right.

The tux – sweet baby Jesus, the tux – he was wearing made everyone else in the room look like garbage; his tall, lean frame fit the outfit like a glove and his 'I-just-got-out-of-bed' hair matched despite the formality of the event.

It was the guy I'd seen across the street yesterday. The perfect contradiction.

While I was outright practically undressing him with my eyes, staring like a total creeper, 'Perfection Personified' (as I'd like to call him) suddenly shifted in his stance until his whole body was directly facing me.

Until his dark eyes were facing me.

_Mother of Pearl…_

Of course, I did the only thing I could do – I ran like a maniac out of there and threw myself into the throng of people. I use the term 'run' lightly because I kept stumbling in my pumps that I probably looked like I was spaz dancing all over the place.

I must be dreaming.

Seriously. What were the chances of meeting a person you saw on the streets again?

Then again, what were the chances that you'd meet your doppelganger on the way to run some errands?

There was just _no way_; that's just too fucked up. I felt like I'd stared at him for a quite a long moment back there, but maybe it was just a few seconds. Maybe he was all just an illusion. I was so entranced by some stranger's good looks yesterday that I was even beginning to hallucinate about him. Imagining him in a damn tux, for Christ's sakes! God, I was losing what little marbles I had left…

I made my way through the crowds in search of my parents again, never stopping my stride as I put distance between the illusion. When I finally found them towards the back (or was it the front?) of the expansive room, the people that were once gathered around them were no longer there, and I could only count three other people aside from my parents.

"Ella, honey," my mom called, gesturing for me join them. "Come here, I want you to meet someone."

The three people, a man accompanied by two ladies whom I assumed to be his wife and daughter, all turned in my direction.

"These are our neighbors I was talking about," she explained when I reached her side. "And they're also the vice-mayor's family. This here is Mr. and Mrs. Harding and their daughter, Angel. You'll be seeing them a lot from now on."

The elders all laughed lightly, but I wasn't paying them much attention. I was only listening half-heartedly as I tried to shake the feeling of the handsome stranger, gazing down at my shoes as I contemplated what is actually reality.

"Oh! And this young man is their son, Nicholas. You guys are just about the same age."

Turning my head slowly, my eyes lingering on the ground for moment, I raised my gaze to look at their son.

_And it was him_.

* * *

><p><strong>Tiff: <strong>Now we're getting somewhere. :8D Funny no one realized how much we emphasized the vice-mayor in the last chapter, but anyways…

Okay, so since the amount of reviews last chapter was the same as the chapter before that, and us asking for your input (practically _begging_) isn't working, then I guess I'll just stick to kindness and hope that you guys click that review button down unda. :P The lot of you that read this must have a problem with it if you can so easily close the window after reading, so Sam and I _really _want to know what you guys think and how we can improve on writing this story. Like, what are the things we lack that make you disregard '_Unbeknownst_'? We're all ears. :)

**Sam: **So hey y'all. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you did, please review. If you didn't, could you please tell us what we need to improve on (aside from the fact that yes, this story is lacking the much anticipated FAX, but that's gonna change after this chapter ;D).

I'd also like to address something that one of my reviewers said. Mind you, I'm not trying to call her out on anything and I _did _try and PM her, but she disabled PMing.

So **SushiLover123**, Tiff and I work really hard on this story (she more than I) and we can't update everyday like some other authors do. First of all, we have to _email _each other what we've written. We have to find times to talk that are suitable for both of us, because when it's day here, it's night there. **(Remember that we're across the world from each other.)** And a lot of work, editing, and debating goes into making this. There are reasons why Tiff and I can't update daily or even weekly. And while yes, we _adore _our readers; we have lives outside of fanfiction.

Also, you said that you would review if we updated more often? Over the summer and fall, "Of Sun and Moon" was updated regularly. You even put it on Story Alert and not once did you review. We _know _we don't update often, trust me, Tiff and I talk about updating every time we talk because we want to please our readers, but we don't always have time.

Thanks for reading though and I hope Tiff and I can find more free time to update :) Hopefully there are no harsh feelings, but it is a frequently asked question and I thought now was a good time to answer it.


	5. Final Authors' Note

**Hi guys! Tiffany (desperatelyobvious) here :)**

If you haven't already inferred from the lack of updates for the past year, here's the official Author's Note to let you know** we're discontinuing this story.**

I, and on behalf of Sam (or Nat – whatever floats your boat), can't thank you enough for all the reviews, subscriptions and overall support that you've given. Thank you for even giving this story a chance! These were 4 short chapters, and as I'm writing this, we've already reached 131 reviews. It's amazing.

I'm currently going through all the reviews and (sans the 'Of Sun and Moon' extortion reviews) I'm literally in tears seeing how invested some of you were with this story. I am thankful, and I am remorseful. I can fully empathize, because I absolutely hate it when people discontinue a story that I've just gotten interested in. And as the co-author myself, I hate letting go of something that I've invested in, too.

You guys deserve honesty, so there's no harm in telling you guys why we decided this.

Simply put, Sam grew out of the Maximum Ride fandom. As she's already mentioned on more than one occasion, she's never even read the series, and she believes that it's finally time to move on to other things.

We both don't believe in discontinued stories, but for her, she was starting to see it as a chore. And as much as that frustrates me – after months and months of procuring a 25-chapter plot to perfection, planning, editing drafts, writing chapters, re-writing shit chapters, fighting, debating, talking, agreeing, sharing ideas, laughing about non-Fanfiction related things – she was first and foremost my friend, and I had to respect her decision. I would never want her to do something that would make her unhappy; and more than that, writing shouldn't have to be an obligation.

Personally, I would _love_ to continue this story myself. Everything is all set; all I have to do is write it. But as per unwritten collaboration code states, I can't do this without Sam. She was my co-author, and my editor. This was _our_ story.

However, it was a story worth reading. In case any of you are interested to know who Max and Ella were going to end up with, their adventures after they Switched, and how their stories all concluded in the end, don't hesitate to PM me (desperatelyobvious) on my personal account. I'd be more than happy to tell you in summary what Sam and I had in store for you guys.

**In case any of you were wondering:**

Sam (makorrashenanigans; formerly known as maximumrain3) is currently in her senior year of high school and she'll be graduating sometime June. Although she's really busy nowadays, she's active on her Tumblr. I am unaware of her plans for her MR stories, but I know that she now pursues The Legend of Korra fandom (something you guys should all watch, beeteedubs); though as far as I can tell, she hasn't been updating for a long while. :\ I'm not even sure if she's still on Fanfiction... Go check out 'Serendipity' and 'Heartbreaker, Playmaker' – both major hits in the LoK category. You can also try dropping her a line (but _ha_, good luck waiting for a reply on that front. Let me know if she replies) :)

As for me (desperatelyobvious), I literally just graduated from high school 5 days ago, and I'll be going to my dream university by the end of May. :P I'm still in the works of finishing my full story 'Secrets and Lies' (which you should go check out), and I've got a few plans for oneshots up my sleeve (their release dates are all indefinite). I wish to write more stories, but those too, are indefinite plans. I'm not as active in Fanfiction as I used to be, given how much busier I've become, but I'll always be there – just a PM away. Ask me anything or start a convo; I love making new friends. :D Also, if any of you guys are interested in following me on Tumblr or Twitter, just message me. :)

Review one last time - I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you're hoping for a reply, however, it would be best to message me. :) This account is hooked up to an e-mail Sam and I made, and we're abandoning that too.

Speaking for both of us, again, **we're truly sorry for getting your hopes up on this story, but thank you guys so much for being such dedicated and faithful readers**. Sam wasn't lying last chapter when she said we adore you guys. Your reviews kept us going; and despite how short this story lasted, it was a great ride.

Sincerely,

Tiffany (desperatelyobvious)


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